


Wandering Clichés

by keelywolfe



Series: Sportashorts [10]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Or rather; not sleeping, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10521063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: When Robbie and Sportacus started sleeping together, this wasn't at all what Robbie had in mind.





	

* * *

Robbie had had a lot of concerns about starting a relationship with Sportacus. To begin with, the whole villain/hero becoming lovers had moved past the point of irony about fifty years ago and now it was a cliché. Robbie liked to consider himself unique amongst villains and it was unsettling to be devalued into a trope. 

Then again, it was difficult to be worrying about metaphors when Sportacus looked at him like _that_ , with those soft blue eyes and fond smile and blast it, another cliché, but still. It was hard to care. 

So yes, there were concerns. He could have produced a list, a catalog, a book of reasons this was a terrible idea. 

One of them had never been that Sportacus would be impossible to sleep with. 

It wasn't that he snored; he didn't _quite_ snore, only on rare occasions, and snoring Robbie could deal with. If only that was all Sportacus did in his sleep.

To begin with, Robbie would never have suspected it, but Sportacus was prone to getting very cold in his sleep. Maybe his airship was a lot warmer but when he stayed in Robbie's bunker, he was always teetering on chilly. Robbie wasn't bothered either way and willingly piled on the blankets but still, Sportacus always clung to him in his sleep, winding around him trying to siphon off whatever heat he gave off. Until Robbie felt like he was being strangled and had to squirm free, and the process repeated itself. 

Truth be told, a sleeping Sportacus was just as troublesome as awake, if not more.   
Sleeping on the floor would probably be better than trying to get any rest with the nocturnal yoga master. Only Sportacus never seemed to want to let go; when he slept, he slept hard.

The first time Robbie woke up that night was because Sportacus had managed to put his icy cold feet on the backs of Robbie's calves, and that Robbie tolerated only because they warmed quickly and it wasn't worth the struggle. The next time Robbie woke up, Sportacus was under the blankets completely, his arms around Robbie's waist and his face buried in the small of his back. Probably trying to absorb every ounce of heat in him.

Robbie drifted off again and woke up to find Sportacus had fully absorbed him, managed to get his head under Robbie's arm so he was tucked into his armpit and the rest of him was on top of Robbie, legs tangled together.

Robbie sighed inwardly. Sportacus: human origami.

It was a wonder he wasn't suffocating under the duvet, his face buried nose first into Robbie's armpit. And his breathing was starting to tickle something horrible. Still, Robbie was accustomed to sleeping in strange positions; he'd spent a few years sleeping in chair, after all. 

The next time he woke it was to find that somehow, Sportacus had managed to scoot them over in the bed, in tiny little wiggles, so that Robbie was plastered against the wall on one side and smothered by Sportacus on the other. And even then, Robbie was all right, he could handle being slightly smooshed. Until Sportacus managed to bend space and time and get even closer, pushing one knee between Robbie's legs and settling it right there against his crotch.

Um.

Well, now Robbie was terrified to move because he was either going to have a lovely start to his morning or if Sportacus jolted awake, he was going to be walking bent over for most of the day.

Such was the conundrum. The situations he found himself in.

Sportacus squirmed and Robbie held his breath. He swore the blasted Elf was trying to somehow to meld into Robbie, and every time he squirmed, his knee was moving with him, nudging warningly.

Not painfully, though...not yet.

A handful of thumping heartbeats later and Sportacus moved again. Robbie's relief was cut short as he wriggled his way deep into the blankets and now his face was right on Robbie's belly, his shirt had ridden up so that Sportacus was snuggling against bare skin. Not ideal, but not horrific, and Robbie nodded off again. 

Only to wake again and find that he'd rolled on his stomach at some point. He shifted, trying to roll over only to discover he was pinned. There was a weight across his shoulders and considerably lower. Robbie craned his neck and peered downward into the darkness…ah. Well. That one was different. It wasn't every day that Sportacus used his ass as a pillow.

Then came the realization that Sportacus was actually upside down in the bed and had one leg strewn across Robbie's shoulders, pinning him down. Therefore, that nudging he was feeling was not a dream and if he moved even the slightest, Sportacus would be all but humping the back of his skull.

It certainly gave new meaning to phrase giving head.

Robbie was contemplating the best place to give Sportacus a hard pinch when he made a distressed little sound and wriggled back around, until he was topside again, sprawled over Robbie and his face was between Robbie's shoulder blades.

Which seemed to be his optimal drooling territory.

Again, Robbie could have taken that. Snoring, yes, drooling, why not, ass pillowing, hell, add it to the list. Having Sportacus's not inconsiderable weight on top of him, however, was the breaking point. 

"Sportacus...Sportacus," Robbie said loudly, struggling as much as he could while trapped beneath the dead weight of a sleeping Elf. "Sportacus! You're going to have to explain to the children if you accidentally murder me."

"Humzat?" Mumbled hotly against his damp pajamas. 

"Sportacus, you have to move, I can't breathe."

"Hmmmmmm," Nuzzled into his back, "Warm."

"Yes, I know you're warm. You're sweating and you're currently dowsing me in it. Move!"

With a disappointed whine, Sportacus rolled off him, letting Robbie suck in a greedy lungful of air, before snuggling up against his back instead.

Robbie resigned himself to it. Sportacus couldn't hold still even in his sleep and that was the price one paid to share a bed with him. 

What felt like less than a minute later, Robbie woke blearily to someone shaking him gently. He opened one boiled, bloodshot eye to glare at his tormentor, who only gave him a bright smile in return.

"Robbie, it's after dawn, aren't you getting up?"

"No!" Robbie snarled, yanking the blankets over his head. "I am not getting up! Go do backflips in traffic for a while and _let me sleep_!"

A disappointed sigh made its way through the thick blankets. "How can anyone sleep as much as you do and still be cranky, Robbie?"

Murder was sounding more and more plausible and it was probably for the best Robbie heard soft soled shoes walking away and the door closing. Robbie buried his face into his pillow, already drifting, when he felt the blankets lift and a familiar body snuggling up against him, an arm sliding around his waist. 

"If you want to sleep in, then I'll stay with you for a while," Sportacus said decisively. 

Robbie swallowed and contemplating pushing him out of bed. Considered telling him about his nighttime antics, thought about just snarling at him to go away. Instead, he sighed and relaxed back against him, settling his hand over Sportacus's on his belly and twining their fingers together. 

"That sounds nice," Robbie mumbled, more asleep then not and yet awake enough to feel the soft kiss pressed to his temple, his cheek. 

Enemies to lovers; really, it was such a terrible cliché but Robbie was willing to own it. 

finis


End file.
